


helping hands & misunderstood plans

by gignikinszz



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, M/M, Modern Era, oh my god you guys i love mace windu, the entire fic is just them being massive dumbasses with a mace windu interlude, the inherent romanticism of passing notes in class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27389914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gignikinszz/pseuds/gignikinszz
Summary: Anakin was failing history, there wasn’t any getting out of that. However, there was a cute ginger who sat beside him who happened to be really good at it. And if, perhaps, when Mr. Windu wasn’t looking, he stole a glance of the other boy’s paper, well, that was no one’s business but his own.Well, apparently it was the cute ginger's business, Anakin realized, as a note dropped on the ground by his foot. Shit.Or: a couple of massive dumbasses pass a lot of (not-so-unnoticed) notes in class and experience a lot of feelings, most of which belonging to the romantic variety.
Relationships: Depa Billaba & Mace Windu, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 24
Kudos: 174





	helping hands & misunderstood plans

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote like 3k of this to distract myself from the november 3 thing ,:))
> 
> un-beta'd but written with a passion for mace windu's idgaf attitude & passing notes in class. enjoy!!

It wasn’t Anakin’s fault he was failing U.S. History; it really wasn’t. It was just that, well, it was boring and it sucked and Mr. Windu’s voice put him to sleep sometimes.

So, when he found himself unsure of most of the answers on the first test of the year, and, well, the (incredibly cute) boy next to him clearly knew what he was doing, he couldn’t resist the urge to take a peek.

He waited until long after the other boy, whose name he couldn’t quite remember—Ben, maybe?—turned his test in, bubble sheet and packet, to get up and turn his in, the whole time pretending to work, doing the math for what grade he wanted, how many he needed to answer from Cute Ginger’s, putting the right wrong answers, random enough to look random but not too purposeful. Answering what he thought were easier questions right to make it look realistic.

It was only a few seconds after he sat back down, adrenaline pumping, that he felt something hit his foot.

He looked down, probably too quickly, to see a folded piece of notebook paper laying innocently on the floor from where someone had thrown it. Anakin resisted the urge to look around, instead leaning forwards to put his head on the desk, as if he were contemplating dropping out (which he was, but that wasn’t the point), and reaching down to grab the paper.

He unfolded it slowly under the desk, carefully, but had to try exceptionally hard to not make any noises or whip around as he read the note.

_You know, you could just ask for help next time, instead of cheating off the easiest target. I would’ve been happy to give you a helping hand._

_-Obi-Wan (the boy whose paper you were looking off of 10 minutes ago)_

Oh. Shit. Anakin grabbed his pencil and, before he could think about it, started writing back, pointedly Not addressing the whole cheating thing. Because he wasn’t _cheating_. He was just seeking some mid-exam help. It wasn’t his fault this Obi-Wan couldn’t see that.

_Who the fuck passes actual physical notes in class anymore? Don’t you have a phone?_

_-Anakin (confused about Obi-Wan’s stone age methods of communication)_

He chucked the note back, not really looking to see where it landed, and was surprised when it landed on his desk soon after. He was, admittedly, less cautious in opening it this time, as he was anxious to see what the other boy said. Specifically about the whole cheating thing.

He was surprised, though, to see that the topic never came up. In fact, the note only responded to what he’d said. Barely.

_I don’t have your number, dumbass_

_-Obi-Wan (confused as to why Anakin wants him to text into the void)_

Okay, well. Anakin never claimed to be the brightest in terms of critical thinking and the like. But there was time to fix the whole number issue. If he wanted to, at least.

He snuck another look at the boy sitting next to him. Of course he’d seen the other boy before, but he had to admit he’d never really _looked_. Obi-Wan’s hair was floppy, falling in his face, and he appeared to be very concentrated on some level of some phone game Anakin hadn’t seen anyone play in at least 2 years. Flappy Bird, maybe? He had nice hands, though. It was distracting. And, below the curtain of hair, Anakin could see his lips, pressed in concentration, and what was probably the most perfect nose he’d ever seen. Altogether, what Anakin could see of him was just… _yeah_.

As soon as he stopped staring (which could’ve been anywhere from two seconds from five minutes), he wrote his number below Obi-Wan’s last message. Carefully, of course, so he knew the other boy could read it.

Then, actually trying to aim this time, Anakin prepared to throw the note. Brought his hand into position—

The bell rang, and Obi-Wan stood up and left without a word, without even a _glance_ in Anakin’s direction.

Well, fuck.

\--

Obi-Wan should’ve known it was stupid to flirt so blatantly with the boy sitting next to him, and he really shouldn’t have been so surprised, or worse, disappointed, when the note didn’t land itself near his desk again.

But he was. Because he was a dumbass. So he forced himself to pack up quietly before the bell rang so he could whip out of the classroom as fast as possible and go be embarrassed somewhere more private. Thankfully, it was his second-to-last class, meaning he probably wouldn’t run into Anakin anywhere for the rest of the day.

He purposefully thought about anything else that night.

That didn’t stop him from dreading history all through the next day, though. Maybe he could just ignore Anakin, and Anakin would ignore him back. That would probably be for the best. Fucking _shit_ , what had he been thinking? It was so stupid. So, so stupid.

When the class finally arrived, he sat down quickly and pulled his things out slowly, trying to stretch getting a notebook and a pencil out into the actual class period. There were a few coughs next to him, coming from Anakin’s seat, but he ignored them. No way was he about to embarrass himself again.

Finally, mercifully, the bell rang and Obi-Wan heard a sound that was something like a “humph” beside him. Which he also ignored.

Actually, it wasn’t until 5 minutes in when something hit his foot that he looked away from his notebook. Stomach filling with dread, he looked down to see a folded piece of paper.

Exerting all his self-control to not look at Anakin, he leaned down to pick it up, pretending he was tying his shoe and grabbing the cursed thing.

He didn’t know if he _wanted_ to know what was on it, if he was being honest. He seriously considered just throwing it away and never looking at it for a moment, then reminded himself that he’d be eternally curious if he did. So he opened it slowly, one eye on Windu, trying not to make any noise with it, and steeled himself before he looked down.

A phone number. And a note.

_Damn, I guess we’ll have to fix that, then._

_p.s. sorry I didn’t get back to you yesterday. I was a bit distracted ;) if u know what I mean ;););)_

Never mind that Obi-Wan had no clue what Anakin meant by “distracted” (what could possibly be distracting in Windu’s classroom? Especially post-test??), the latest message filled him with an incredible amount of relief.

Anakin had just been _distracted_ somehow. He didn’t hate Obi-Wan for trying to flirt with him. That didn’t mean he’d flirted back, either, but Obi-Wan could work with this. Friends was better than nothing, right?

So, as inconspicuously as possible (and silently thanking Quin for all the practice), Obi-Wan put the number in his phone and sent a text that just said his name.

Anakin’s phone buzzed loudly in his pocket, drawing the attention of, well, everyone. Windu raised an eyebrow, but Anakin was, thankfully, smart enough to not look at it. Well, not immediately.

Okay, maybe he wasn’t so smart because when he did pull it out, as soon as Windu stopped paying outright attention to him, he not-so-inconspicuously took his phone out of his pocket and checked it, also no-so-inconspicuously, a smile pulling at his lips. And yeah, it was _cute_ , but that didn’t mean Obi-Wan wanted Windu, and consequently everyone else, noticing. For both their dignities. He said a small prayer, tried to not let his gaze drift over to Anakin again—

“Skywalker.” _Damn it_. “What could possibly be so interesting you feel the need to look at your phone in my class?”

Anakin turned red and sat up straight. “Uh, nothing.” He was fumbling around, and Obi-Wan resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I was just, uh—”

“Texting your mother? Sure.” The glint in the man’s eye turned evil, & Obi-Wan could only hope he didn’t ask to see the text. “Want to give me that?”

Anakin scowled and muttered something that made Windu’s eyebrow raise dangerously but handed it over, Obi-Wan breathing a sigh of relief for not having to defend his position.

Still, he took care to throw the next note while Windu wasn’t looking.

_Maybe my caveman ways of communication are better after all. When do you want to meet? I can’t possibly teach you all of U.S. History via note._

He ignored the dirty look Anakin gave him.

\--

Their first meeting, study session, date, whatever it was—Anakin wasn’t sure quite what to call it—went like this:

Anakin got there 2 minutes late. Obi-Wan was already at the diner he’d picked (Dex’s), sipping a milkshake. They’d exchanged an awkward hello. Obi-Wan roasted Anakin’s outfit. Anakin roasted his choice of drink. They exchanged a few more friendly barbs. They talked, maybe for a lot longer than they should’ve. They studied for maybe 10 minutes. Anakin managed to get Obi-Wan off-track somehow. Anakin pretended he wasn’t checking Obi-Wan out while counting the colors in his eyes and thinking of the perfect song to go with the situation. He learned that Obi-Wan was single. And bi. He definitely didn’t fixate on that information, not at all. After they said their goodbyes, he smiled all the way home and made his mom listen to the whole thing in excruciating detail.

The next time they met outside of Windu’s classroom (where Obi-Wan had made Anakin promise to not cheat off him again), it went, for the most part, the same. And the next time. And the time after that.

And pretty soon, Anakin was seeing more of Obi-Wan than some of his other friends and doing more _things_ with Obi-Wan than his other friends, which made him the butt of a lot of “boyfriend” jokes, but he didn’t really care. It was _nice_ , okay, and Obi-Wan was. Well. Nice. To be around. And his presence wasn’t even _exhausting_ like so many other people were. And he was cute. And warm. And Anakin liked it when they fell asleep watching movies. And—

Well, if Anakin was harboring some feelings of the romantic variety, that was fine. It wasn’t like Obi-Wan knew. It was probably best that he didn’t, anyways. The one downside to all the time spent hanging out was that Obi-Wan was apparently determined to keep Anakin firmly in the friendzone.

The ginger had, without fail, either ignored or misidentified _every single one_ of Anakin’s flirting attempts. When he put his arm around the ginger as they watched some Marvel movie and the boy in question joked about getting scared and referred to Anakin as a friend. When Anakin offered to pay for his food (thereby making whatever outing they’d been on a _date_ , at least by his mom’s standards—and Shmi was _always_ right), and Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and told Anakin flat-out that they weren’t on a _date, were they_ so it was _fine, really_. And (most embarrassingly), when Anakin leaned in, trying to kiss him, because they were on the top level of a parking garage at 2 in the morning and the moment felt right and, really, he just wanted to, and Obi-Wan had taken the opportunity to ask Anakin if he was done trying to figure out the color of his eyes. Which lead to an entirely mortifying conversation which cemented that Anakin was alone in his feelings.

It was annoying. It was _incredibly_ annoying. Obi-Wan was either a dumbass or just really, really Not Interested, and Anakin was tired of learning his lesson.

Still. Whenever Obi-Wan texted, Anakin responded. Or passed notes in class, as it was.

One chilly November afternoon, on their 20th piece of notebook paper, Anakin’s stupid crush came up. Again. In the form of a _dance_.

It went something along the lines of:

Obi-Wan: _Are you going to the Winter Formal?_

Anakin: _I don’t have anyone to go with so nah prolly not_

Obi-Wan: _I thought you were with Padme??_

Anakin: _No me & her broke up like forever ago lmaooo where the fuck did you hear that???_

Obi-Wan: _???? A friend told me. Remind me to tell her off later_

Anakin: _lmao sure. Why did u want to know about the dance??_

Anakin didn’t get the note back that day, instead being rudely left to bite his nails and worry his ass off about why the _fuck_ Obi-Wan had been asking about the dance. And Padme. Was he planning on asking _Padme_? Anakin was cool with her now, but he really didn’t know if he could handle her and Obi-Wan dating. It was bad enough that he kept getting rejected, he didn’t want to have to watch him fawning over Anakin’s _ex-girlfriend_.

He didn’t sleep well that night.

\--

As it turned out, Obi-Wan wasn’t sleeping well either. He’d folded and unfolded the note a thousand times, wondering how Anakin would take what he was asking.

He was fairly sure the other boy liked him. And he was absolutely sure he liked him back. Still, it took a lot of hours of combing through memories before he convinced himself enough to fall asleep.

He was pretty sure Anakin had been trying to flirt, at least a couple times. There was a time they were watching a mildly intense movie, and Anakin had, he’d thought at the time, tried to jokingly comfort him by putting his arm around him. In hindsight, it was a fucking Marvel movie so maybe Obi-Wan was just a fucking dumbass and it had actually been a Move. There was also the time Anakin had offered to pay for his food, which Obi-Wan didn’t get until the other boy mentioned a few weeks later that his mom only counted “outings” as dates if one person paid for the other. And he’d explicitly called it _not a date_ while he refused. Shit. Most glaringly was the time Obi-Wan had been _absolutely certain_ Anakin was about to kiss him, up on some rooftop way too late, and he’d absolutely fucking ruined the moment by trying to make some smooth comment about his eyes that fell so flat Anakin pulled away and started a conversation that left them both feeling awkward.

Yeah, so he was pretty sure Anakin liked him. Hopefully. If all the dumbassery hadn’t driven him away completely.

So really, it was just a matter of the other boy not refusing the invitation he was about to extend.

Hopefully.

He’d checked and re-checked the wording a thousand times, making sure it was _absolutely clear_ that he was asking Anakin on a _date_ and not to just hang out in nice clothes at the winter formal. Though, he wasn’t really sure how the invitation could _possibly_ be misconstrued.

… then again, as he thought back over everything, there were lots of ways things could be taken differently than how they were meant.

But as he read over the sentence he’d responded to Anakin’s question with— _I was wondering if you wanted to go to the formal with me_ —he was _sure_ Anakin would know what he meant. After all, people didn’t just go to formals as _friends_. At least, he didn’t. And he was pretty sure Anakin didn’t, either.

Still, he was nervous the whole day leading up to Windu’s class. Even sitting through his stupid Algebra class he really should’ve been paying attention to, even while informing Satine that _no, Anakin and Padme most certainly are_ not _dating, yeah I’m fucking sure, Anakin said so himself, well I don’t know, you could’ve asked her maybe, you two are, you know, friends_ , and especially while sitting down in Windu’s class and waiting for Anakin to show.

Naturally, the other boy walked in a full minute late, looking out of breath and muttering an apology to Mr. Windu. Annoying. Obi-Wan was _hoping_ to not have to do this during class, but if he _didn’t_ , he’d probably chicken out, and he was _not_ about to listen to whatever shit Quin had in store for him if he did. Not to mention _Satine_. Or his _dad_. How the fuck did the man even know? Probably Quin. Not the point.

With all those loving shitheads in mind, he steeled himself and threw the note at Anakin’s desk.

And missed. And hit the side. And it tumbled rather obviously to the floor, leaving the other boy none the wiser to its existence but alerting the _last_ person he wished to know.

Windu walked over more menacingly than usual and picked up the note.

\--

Now, Mace Windu was not one to just _ignore_ two students who were clearly not paying attention to his class.

He almost, _almost_ put a stop to it the first time he saw it happen, but he figured Kenobi, despite the numerous stories Qui Gon had tormented him with, was responsible enough to not continue communicating with Skywalker during his class.

He was wrong.

However, when he told Yoda and Depa in the teachers’ lounge, they told him to not interfere because it was “cute” or whatever.

Well, whatever. If they wanted to fail his class, that was their decision. And if he was only ignoring it because Depa wanted updates and she was secretly his favorite, no he wasn’t.

The whole thing got out of hand rather fast, though, leading him to regret his decision entirely. Even Qui Gon, knowing _full well_ Mace was the only teacher who had both Anakin and Obi-Wan in the same class, disinclined as he was to care about his students’ lives, and fueled by some odd desire to pry into his son’s love life (why couldn’t he just ask? Why the _fuck_ couldn’t he just ask??), had made him give updates. It got to the point where he couldn’t remember who he’d told what (not that there was much to tell. There was only so much _they’re on their fifteenth sheet of paper_ a man could report on), and Depa made a motherfucking _group chat_ so Mace could just update them both at once. Knowing full well he hated texting.

If she was his still his favorite, that was no one’s business but his own.

As much as people seemed to be invested in whatever the fuck was going on with Skywalker and Kenobi, though, there was only so much bullshit a man could handle. So, when he saw the stupid note fly out of Kenobi’s hands one particularly aggravating Tuesday and land nowhere near Skywalker’s desk, he couldn’t help it. He had to put a stop to the madness, even if it meant at least 2 people—thought it was probably more, knowing the legendary rumor mill at Coruscant High (the one that had pegged Aayla and Bly 3 months before they happened, out of sheer Desire To Gossip)—being out for his blood.

Not that he’d even been the only source or anything. There had been plenty _I saw them at the park_ , _I heard Satine and Vos saying they’re going to the formal together_ , _I see them at Dex’s every Sunday_ going around both students and—embarrassingly enough—faculty, without his help.

Really, when he stalked over, as menacing as possible, he just intended to read a couple lines out to the class and make a comment about flirting that was bound to embarrass them both in the most quick and painful way possible.

Instead, he couldn’t help but laugh a little when he read the note, despite himself. Depa would _love_ this. He read it again, just to be sure he was actually seeing what he thought he was seeing. Kenobi was being… surprisingly forward.

Change of plans, then.

He put the note on Skywalker’s desk. “Don’t let me see you passing this again,” he said, sounding as intimidating as possible. He would’ve threatened both of them but, well, Kenobi already looked like he wanted to die in the quickest way possible. Good. “Next time,” he continued, “I _will_ read it.”

Then he went back to teaching, thinking of the reaction he’d get when he unleashed the news on the group chat.

\--

Anakin was only really half-paying attention as Windu stalked up the aisle between him and Obi-Wan. Really, he was more focused on the fact that Obi-Wan was about to ask him about asking _Padme_ to the stupid formal. And he was going to have to deal with that.

But, to his abject horror, Windu stopped. Right at his desk. And bent down to pick up— _oh, shit_. The note. The note Obi-Wan had been asking weird questions about the dance on. The note some not-so-innocuous question about Padme was probably sitting on now.

He stole a glance at Obi-Wan, whose face was _bright_ red. His face spelled out rather clearly that he wanted to be anywhere, _anywhere_ but there. And Anakin didn’t blame him. If _he’d_ been asking questions about asking some girl to a dance and his teacher had read it—if _Windu_ had read it—he would’ve probably gotten up and ran. It was to Obi-Wan’s immense credit that he didn’t.

Anakin was broken out of his thoughts, however, by a chuckle.

Coming from above him.

Windu. Chuckling.

Oh, _God_.

He was expecting the worst. Worse than that. Stealing another glance at Obi-Wan, he saw that the other boy was now covering his extremely red face with his hands, looking madly embarrassed.

So it was a complete surprise when Windu turned to him and gave him the note back (without reading it. Thank god), only issuing a warning that if the note were passed again, he’d read it. Aloud. To the class.

Anakin could live with that. He’d just talk to Obi-Wan after class.

 _Though_ , he thought to himself as he unfolded it, slowly, _I’d really rather just put in writing that she likes red roses and romantic shit, rather than having to re-live my relationship live and in-person_. Not that he wouldn’t have done it for Obi-Wan, but that wasn’t the point. Maybe he’d just write his reply on the note and give it back after class. Yeah, that sounded better.

He felt sick as he opened the note. As much as he knew now… he didn’t want to see actual _evidence_ that Obi-Wan liked Padme. Everything in him screamed that he should just hold onto what he had, knees bumping under café tables, hands held a little too long after pulling the other along somewhere, the freedom to stare at Obi-Wan’s lips and know that there was a chance he might’ve done the same to Anakin.

No. He forced it all from his mind and looked, limbs feeling anxiety-weak.

And immediately felt stupid as _fuck_.

_Well, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the dance with me._

Huh. Anakin could live with this outcome.

 _Sure_ , he wrote back, _it’s not like we have any better alternatives_.

He slipped the note to Obi-Wan after class, putting it in the other boy’s hand and letting his slide away slower than strictly necessary. Obi-Wan hadn’t said it was a date, and Anakin knew better than to assume (on god he did not want a repeat of the parking garage incident), but he was pretty sure he could make it one if he tried hard enough.

There was a chance Obi-Wan liked him back, and Anakin would be damned if he wasn’t going to reach at it with both hands.

\--

Better alternatives? _Better alternatives???_

All Obi-Wan did his last class of the day was reread the note, trying to figure out what the weird phrasing meant. If Anakin was playing hard-to-get, Obi-Wan was _not_ having it. If Anakin didn’t like him after all, this was sure a weird way to turn his advances down—though, given the way their hands had lingered when he got the note back, he strongly doubted it. And if Anakin thought _Obi-Wan_ hadn’t meant it like that, then he was truly stupider than he’d thought.

It was fine. It was perfectly fine. Really. Obi-Wan could fix this. He just had to tell Anakin something along the lines of _hey, I actually meant that as a date you fucking dumbass_. Though maybe without the dumbass bit.

He barely registered Qui Gon, fully occupied doing something or other on his phone anyways, as he trudged back into his house that night, still wondering how the _hell_ he screwed that up. And when he was going to make the correction.

It was Tuesday. The formal was on Saturday. He had four days to tell Anakin. It would be fine.

Wednesday did not go fine. He met up with Anakin after school to go over a history assignment, and the whole time, Anakin was focused on getting it done, giving Obi-Wan absolutely no opportunity to talk about the dance. It was strange, Anakin was _never_ that focused. Ever. On anything. Then he just _left_ right after, saying he had a paper or something to write.

Thursday, Anakin wasn’t at school. Obi-Wan texted him and, apparently, he “simply did not vibe with showing up.” Another bust.

On Friday, Obi-Wan made Anakin promise to hang out with him after school. There was _no way_ he was going to the fucking _winter formal_ with who was perhaps the _most attractive boy he’d ever seen_ who he was 99% sure _was actually into him_ as _just friends_. He would combust. He would die. There was no way he was going through with it, no _fucking_ way.

He thought this through a few times while he waited for Anakin to get to their favorite park.

When the other boy finally _did_ get there, it was 15 minutes late. Later than usual. And he was holding an incredibly crumpled piece of paper, playing with the edges.

“I would’ve preferred a Starbucks,” Obi-Wan called out as Anakin came up to where he was sitting on the grass. “What’s that?”

Anakin’s brain seemed to short-circuit, but he seemed to get it after a moment. “Oh,” he said. “Uh, it’s. Um. A speech. Not a speech! A, um, well, clarification? Of sorts?”

Obi-Wan had no fucking clue what he meant. “What?”

Anakin sighed, and the wind blew a curl in front of his face. Obi-Wan had to resist the urge to push it back, struck by how _pretty_ the other boy was. Like, god. Obi-Wan had gotten used to staring at his side profile before the whole cheating incident, but his full face? A masterpiece. His lips _alone_ made Obi-Wan want to forget about the whole talking thing and skip to the good part. Not that it was a good idea in any way, but he could see it in his mind, laying on the grass instead of sitting, lips pressed together, hands—

“—Wan? Obi-Wan, are you even listening?” Anakin’s voice, annoyed, broke him out of his thoughts.

“Uhh.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. As I was _saying_ ,” Anakin said, “I just wanted to say that, well, clarify, I wanted to clarify that I didn’t _mean_ just like as a last option, or like cause we didn’t have anything better to do, actually, I, uh—”

“Anakin—”

“—really would like to go! With—”

“What are you talking about? What do you mean?” Obi-Wan was confused, and he honestly just wanted to say _his_ bit about it being a _date_ and everything before Anakin started… clarifying. “Listen. About tomorrow. I was trying to—”

“Yeah! About the formal!” Anakin cut in. “I didn’t mean what I said like _that,_ you know?”

Obi-Wan blinked. “Oh. Well, uh, neither did I.” Wait, what? “I mean, unless you meant _that_ that, because that’s how I meant it. Like that. Just not like, you know, the other that.”

Anakin looked as confused as he felt. “Obi-Wan.” He said his name very slowly. “What in _flying fuck_ are you talking about right now?”

Obi-Wan didn’t fucking know anymore. He was tired. _So_ tired. And the whole interaction was just _so_ stupid.

“I mean that I meant the whole formal thing as a fucking _date_ ,” he said, probably louder than he needed to, barely cutting off the _idiot_ that threatened to slip through his lips and glaring at Anakin.

The other boy’s brain seemed to stall for an extremely painful minute, before he looked at Obi-Wan, still slightly agape, but with brighter eyes.

“Oh.”

\--

Anakin _never_ said he was good at picking up signals, in his defense. And, also in his defense (as he explained shortly after the “date” revelation), it wasn’t like Obi-Wan had shown any sign of reciprocating his feelings. In fact, he argued, Obi-Wan had _rejected_ his advances. On multiple occasions.

This, of course, led to more arguing than it probably needed to, and consequently Qui Gon calling Obi-Wan in the middle of a heated debate about the almost-kiss (— _that was_ not _a pick-up line, that was—no, listen, you were literally just calling me out. Yes you were, don’t give me that shit—_ ) and telling him he had some family dinner or something, to which he made a sour face and told Anakin their “discussion” wasn’t over and he’d pick him up at 7, to which Anakin called bullshit but agreed that he’d see him at 7.

The lead-up was probably more anxious than it should’ve been, considering Obi-Wan had confirmed it was a date, without Anakin even needing to recite the statement he’d spent 2 days working on and writing down to explain himself. Though, in hindsight, it was probably better that way. The thing… kind of sucked.

Time dragged on while he waited, but before he knew it the entire day had slipped away and he was sitting in Obi-Wan’s car, wearing a suit and fiddling with the sleeves while the other boy fussed with the radio, hair still falling over his eyes despite the obvious gel in it.

When they got to the dance, it was dark already, and inside it was worse, the only light coming from the colorful strobes at the front of the gym the school had chosen to hold the dance in following a knife incident at their usual venue that hadn’t even involved their school. The harsh, flashing lights kind of made Anakin’s head hurt, but he didn’t mind as long as Obi-Wan kept holding his hand.

Maybe it was the dance. Maybe it was the weird lighting. Maybe it was the slow, romantic song playing in the background like the end of some rom-com Anakin might’ve secretly found adorable (not that that was anyone’s business but his own), but he found himself pulling Obi-Wan closer, looping his arms around the other boy’s waist, leaning in more than he probably should’ve.

Obi-Wan’s cheeks looked darker, even in the shitty lighting. “Did you want something?” he whispered, tone teasing.

Anakin’s lips curved into a smile, unprompted. “Only if you do,” he said, just glad he knew what Obi-Wan _meant_. He felt his hands, clammy, gripping Obi-Wan’s jacket as the other boy drew his hands up and leaned in.

When they kissed, it felt like something out of a movie. Obi-Wan’s hands were cupping Anakin’s face so gently, and his lips were so soft, and for all the times since they’d known each other Anakin had imagined this, it was _so much better_ than he’d thought it would be. It wasn’t even that passionate—they were still in the middle of a gym full of sweaty teenagers, after all—but it made Anakin’s head feel all swimmy, in the best way.

When Obi-Wan pulled back, taking in a breath that Anakin _felt_ , he couldn’t help but chase after him a bit.

“That was nice,” he murmured, absently stroking his thumbs up and down Obi-Wan’s sides.

The other boy snorted a little bit. “Fucking finally,” he said, his voice dreamy-sounding. “Shit, I’ve wanted to do that since the first day in Windu’s class.”

Anakin raised his eyebrows. “So when I started, uh, using you for help—”

“—cheating—”

“—that was…?” Anakin ignored Obi-Wan’s correction and instead waited for the other boy to answer, expecting (hoping for) him to blush even more.

On the contrary, Obi-Wan wasn’t bashful at _all_ when he grinned and replied, “A good excuse.”

Anakin tried to glare, but found he really just couldn’t when Obi-Wan was smiling at him like that, so he hid his slowly growing grin by putting it on Obi-Wan’s mouth again.

And if they got kicked out for “excessive PDA” by an annoyed-looking Windu himself, well, it was probably for the better. At least in Obi-Wan’s car they didn’t have to worry about anyone overhearing when Anakin told the other boy between sloppy kisses that he liked him _so much_ , or when Obi-Wan replied with a bunch of flowery bullshit that had no right making Anakin feel the way it did.

He told his mom when he got home that it had been a good night, resolved to tell her more in the morning (though maybe not everything), and when he got to his room and fell asleep, he dreamed of Obi-Wan.

**Author's Note:**

> 5 years later anakin proposes with the first note obi-wan ever chucked at him. windu is invited to the wedding and spends the whole time pretending he hates them
> 
> thank you for reading!!! be sure to let me know what you thought in the comments :))


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